


Blast from the past

by CMDAK



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: F/M, Fish out of Water, Historical Inaccuracy, Insult to the rules of time traveling, M/M, Naive Q, Protective James Bond, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-05 17:25:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4188492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMDAK/pseuds/CMDAK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mad man's plan actually works, just not the way he wanted. Instead of him going to the past, the son of a noble gets brought from a time when the Royal House was still in charge of England to 2015. And James is expected to take care of him, not that he minds at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah...this happened. Somehow. I'm sorry.
> 
> Please excuse any and all mistakes and enjoy :)

This man had to be the craziest person James had ever been sent after. His plan was so convoluted and insane that the agent actually needed him to draw it on a whiteboard for him to understand, which the crazy man was more than happy to do after he had finally caught him.

 

“Is it an unwritten rule for you people to start talking in detail about your ultimate goal after you catch the person who’ll stop you in the end?” James couldn’t hold himself from asking even though he knew he would regret it, the man’s bodyguard smacking him so hard for speaking out of turn that he actually lost a tooth.

 

The mad man huffed and turned back to his drawings, smiling lovingly at them. “No need for that, Boris. In this timeline, he cannot be taught respect, but in the one that I am about to create…” He trailed off and started to laugh, throwing himself against a glass case of a machine, slowly sliding down. “The world will be as it should be.” He whispered.

 

James continued to try and weaken the bonds that held him against the chair, licking the blood that was dripping from his lips. One would think that after suffering a heavy loss such as the poor, insane and very dangerous soul that stood before him and rambled about the beginning of a new world, they would seek medical help. But, apparently, if you had a lot of money and a fancy title, it was perfectly okay to lock yourself in your castle for a whole year and buy all sort of dangerous materials before anything decided that you weren’t okay in the head.

 

Not that the agent dealt with the depression of losing loved ones in the proper way, but at least he wasn’t killing innocent people by experimenting God knows what on them or kidnapping scientists to force them work for him. “Nothing can bring the dead back to life, duke. Not money, not prayers, absolutely nothing. So all of the things you are doing will not get you your wife and children back, no matter how much money you stuffed into that abomination.”

 

He was slapped by the duke this time, the man grabbing a fistful of his blond hair and showing a surprise amount of force as he dragged the chair and all closer to the monstrosity in the middle of the room. “Don’t you think I know that? You dare insult my intellect, you simpleton?” He smashed his head against the glass a couple of times, stopping only when the bodyguard pulled him aside.

 

“Don’t let his words get to you,” he muttered against his boss’ ear, leading him away from the British agent. “You’re too close to your final goal to let a man such as he stop you and if that glass breaks, we will have to start all over again.”

 

The man started to shake violently, eyes wide, falling on his knees and wrapping his arms around the bodyguard’s legs. “No, no! You have to promise me that you’ll keep him still until I leave.” He relaxed when the larger man started to pat his back, kneeling next to him and hugging him, whispering something in his ear.

 

Okay, this mission was too strange, insane and emotionally exhausting even for him. He will definitely take all the days off he had gathered up until that point and retreat to that one little island with the cheap and good booze and the women and men who were more than happy to worship him and help him forget everything about himself.

 

But he wasn’t done with the mission just yet and he was an overly curious man, despite his earlier complaint about the mad duke enjoying the sound of his insanity too much as well as the fact that he was supposed to stall the man long enough for backup to arrive. “So what is this machine supposed to do? If you didn’t create it so you can go all Doctor Frankenstein on us, then what is it supposed to do? Turn people into gold? Cause asteroids or satellites to crash into the countries that refuse to do whatever it is you want them to do?”

 

He was being dragged away from the machine now, the bodyguard growling low at him as he sat the chair up right while his boss whipped his tears and the insane look was back in his eyes. “Suddenly interested in my grandmaster plan, Mister Bond?” The man leaned against the machine again, carefully cleaning the glass. “You are in no position to stop me right now no matter how much you keep me talking.” The duke tapped the side of his head. “And your brain is too small to really understand how complex everything is.” He moved to the control panel, brushing his fingers against the buttons. “But I will tell you that this is a time machine. Even you can understand that concept.”

 

James struggled more, desperate to free himself as the man typed something at the computer, laughing and singing a song. Now, there were two ways the whole thing could go. One, he started the machine and nothing happened and James just got rope burns for no good reason and two, it actually did what it was supposed to do and he was afraid M might not be around to scream at him for letting his guard down.

 

“Would your family be happy that you’re doing this?” He tried again, kicking the bodyguard in the stomach when he came to try and silence him. “If you’re doing this for them, you’re just sullying their memory!” He finally managed to release his other foot and lifted the chair, smashing it against the large man and knocking him out, rubbing his writs.

 

But the machine was already making noises and emitting light, the duke clapping his hands like a little child would on Christmas day. “I am doing this for everyone, not just them! They will understand once everything is done.” He turned around and pulled a gun from his jacket, firing it at the agent. “And I am happy to say that you are beyond late, Mister Bond. Now why don’t you stay there and let everything end?”

 

The agent threw a piece of wood at the man, just as Alec busted through the doors, shooting at the people who were chasing him and at every piece of machinery his eyes fell on. “I’m not the type of man to give up so easily, even if it is too late!” James shouted, ducking just in time for his partner to shoot the man in his knees before he could enter the giant light wall that had appeared in the middle of the room.

 

The duke tried to crawl, but James threw himself over him, shielding him when the machine overheated and started to explode, Alec cursing in Russian before dragging them both under a desk.

 

“Not sure we’re going to get out of this one, James,” the other agent shouted over the explosions and the duke’s cries.

 

James laughed and took Alec’s hand, shaking it. “At least M won’t get the chance to chew us out of the buildings we blew up, right?”

 

They braced themselves for the big explosion, but nothing came. The light suddenly disappeared and all they could hear were pieces of metal falling from the ceiling and the mad man crying under them.

 

James was the first to peek from behind the desk, blue eyes widening when he saw a skinny man dressed strangely sitting in the middle of the room, looking out of place. “Excuse me,” the man said in the softest voice either man had ever heard, rubbing the back of his neck. “I seem to have done something terrible again and gotten lost. Would you mind terribly if I were to ask you for a carriage ride back to my house before father finds out I’m missing?”

 

Before either of the agents could react, their captive somehow managed to sprang from under them, his bones cracking as he used all of his strength to throw himself at the strange man, grabbing fistfuls of his brown hair and starting to bash his head against the floor.

 

“You fool! You complete fool! That was a one way trip and you ruined it! It was I who was supposed the make this trip, not you!” He started to scratch at his face before Alec managed to wrestle him off, James gathering the strange man in his arms and letting him hide his head in his jacket.

 

Alec finally managed to land a blow that made the man pass out, tying him up. “Not that I think he’ll ever be able to use his legs after that little stunt, but just to be sure.” He looked up at James and pointed towards the man in his arms, receiving a shrug as an answer.

 

James rubbed the man’s back softly, carefully pushing him away from his chest so he could look him over and make sure he wasn’t too hurt. He was captivated by the scared green eyes that trembled as they looked at him, the thin red lips that moved as heart stabbing sobs left them, the skin that was so white James was sure the sun hadn’t been allowed to kiss it with its rays in months.

 

He was brought out of his trance by Alec hitting the back of his head, the strange man flinching and instantly covering his head, dropping on the ground. Poor thing must have thought that he was going to get attacked. “I am sorry, but sometimes he forgets how to act like a human around people who are not our enemies so he needs a slap over the head.” The agent helped him get up, moving closer to him and holding on pretty tight to his hands. “You are not our enemy, right?”

 

“I promise to you, good sir, that I am not. I do not know who you are or where I am, so you have me at a complete disadvantage. “He had a very elegant way of saying everything, sending shivers down both men’s backs. “May I have my hand back now? Or did that light lead me to a strange land that shares my language, but not my customs?”

 

The building started to shake at the same time as someone started to fire at them and James was quick to grab the young man and duck with him behind some rubble while Alec was returned fire.

 

The duke’s bodyguard had regained consciousness and was currently trying to lead his employer to safety. “This is not the end! You’ll pay for this setback!” The man promised in an overly cliché manner, disappearing through a secret passage way together with the mad man.

 

A large piece of the ceiling fell a few feet away from where the agents were taking cover, the young man covering his head and yelping. “We need to get out of here right now,” James said, picking the man up and starting to run after Alec, letting his colleague deal with the fools who were trying to stop them instead of running to safety.

 

They managed to get out just in time to turn around and see the whole castle collapse in on itself as well as half of MI6’s forces finally arriving via choppers and cars. That caused the man he was holding to cling on tightly to him and start to shake violently and when a medic tried to take him, he screamed and started to weep.

 

“He’s only trying to make sure that you are unharmed, I promise,” James explained in a soft voice, but still moved the scared man further away from the doctor just to be sure it was clear he was going to protect him from anything and anyone he didn’t trust.

 

“You expect me to believe that someone that was birthed from a something made of metal that can move without horses at speeds never seen before wishes to make sure that I am okay?” He was quick to jump from his arms, starting to back away. “I wish to return home right now.” His voice was commanding once again, arms crossing over his chest.

 

James clicked his tongue and stopped the medic in his tracks, signalling Alec to keep everyone away from the young man until he figured out what was wrong with him. The man was dressed as if he were John Keats and the way he held himself and spoke made James think of a lord from old times. “We would, if we only knew where your home was. And I swear on my honour that one wants to harm you. Who are you anyway? And how did you get in the basement of the castle? It was just me, the mad man and his bodyguard.”

 

The man straightened his back before lowering his torso and head. “I am Quentin Livingston, fifth child to be born to Lord and Lady Livingston of His Majesty’s royal house.” He straightened up and dusted his clothes, clasping his hands together behind his back. “All I remember was that I was working in my laboratory when this white light suddenly engulfed me and then you were there.” He smiled a bit in James direction before realizing what he was doing and covering everything up with a cough. “And who might you be?”

 

James blinked a couple of times, everyone around them falling silent, M included. The voice had been so strong when he presented himself that it commanded everyone to cease what they were doing and kneel, although they all managed to hold themselves back from actually doing it. “I am Bond, James Bond, a spy who is on Her Majesty’s payroll.”

 

Quentin looked at him with narrowed eyes, nodding after a moment. “You are from Lord Bond’s house. I was unaware that he had a brother so I have to apologize for not recognizing you despite the obvious family resemblance.” He bowed again and this time James was quick to imitate him. “Nor did I know that the Queen had spies working for her, although that might explain why England is still standing since the King is more interested in making the palace fancy than anything else,” he continued to grumble, shaking his head in disappointment.

 

“I am afraid that I am the only Bond left alive, Quentin. You might have mixed me up with someone else.” He felt like his heart was stabbed when the green eyes filled with sadness and regret. “They died when I was young, so I had more than enough time to get over it.”

 

Alec carefully stepped closer, reading his gun since he was not entirely sure that the young man who called himself Quentin was exactly sane. “Um, what king? England is a democratic country and it has a Queen only in title.”

 

Quentin tilted his head and rubbed his chin, James moving to sit in front of him and block any attempts his overzealous co-workers might have about taking him down. “I read about that concept in a book about Cleisthenes.” His eyes suddenly widened and he grabbed on to James’ jacket. “Oh please do not tell father I have a book about him or all the things I said about the King. I am afraid he is already quite cross with me for not wishing to marry the lady he selected in favour of science.” He bit his lips and looked around, moving closer to James, lowering his voice. “Might I inquire what year this is?”

 

James chuckled, wondering after seeing the slight red tint that spread on the young man’s pale cheeks if another reason he didn’t wish to marry was the fact that it was a bride and not a groom. He was tempted to kiss him even though it would probably land him with a kick in the balls from Quentin and a backside full of led from M and Eve – whose heels were steadily clicking against the concrete as they made their way over to see what was the hold-up – but decided he wanted the young man to see him as someone he could trust instead of a vile fiend who wanted his virtue.

 

“We’re in 2015 and no one cares if you want to marry or not.” Alec spoke up, startling Quentin right in James’ arms. “Did you hit your head or something?” He tried to move close enough to tug on the brown locks, but James covered the young man with his jacket and shook his head.

 

“What in the bloody hell is going on here? Bond, what did you do?” M demanded and Alec suddenly remembering that his shoulder hurt, jumping in one of the ambulances before Eve could get a hold of him. “And who is he?” She continued, pointing at Quentin.

 

Quentin gave a startled shout when he saw the white haired woman and moved to cover both his eyes and James’ with his hands. “Madam, I am sorry, but you seem to be in a horrible state of undress!” He took a step back and started to take his jacket off, eyes shut tightly. “I am afraid that I can only offer you this until we find the ruffians who caused you this great dishonour.”

 

The woman stared at him as if he was raving mad, Eve finally taking pity on him and taking the offered jacket. “What are you going on about, boy? What dishonour? Look at me when I am talking to you.”

 

James intercepted her arm before she could grab his precious protégée. “I think he’s from the past or something like that.” He cleared his throat when his M’s frown only deepened, lowering his voice. “Or at least he thinks he is. Look, the duke was batshit insane and—“

 

“Lord Bond, please do not use such vile language in front of a Lady! Talking about bat droppings is completely inappropriate.” Quentin scolded him, eyes still shut.

 

Eve’s eyebrow shot up, hands resting on her hips. “Lord Bond? Oh my god, the poor boy must have hit his head really hard if he’s addressing you like that.”

 

M rolled her eyes and sighed, regretting for the millionth time that she had James on MI6’s payroll. He was really good at what he did and saved England and the world countless times, but he had a really bad habit of royally mucking things up. “We’ll run a background check on him and see who he really is. Boy, look at me.”

 

Quentin tried to do as he was told, but the moment his eyes landed on her exposed feet, his face turned very red and he ducked his head back in James’ chest. “Please excuse me, my lady, but I simply cannot do it. I am not married to you and mother said that crows will pluck my eyes out if I ever glanced at a woman in such a state without the blessing of a priest first.”

 

“You know what? I’m too sober for this,” M announced, turning around. “Bond, since you found him, I am appointing you as his official babysitter. Make sure our medical team has his blood, DNA and anything else they need. And don’t get him killed!”

 

That was more than fine with James because sometime between pulling the crazy duke off of him and the nth time Quentin hid his face in his chest, the agent decided that no one else was allowed to take care of the young man except for him.

 

They walked slowly in the direction of the ambulance Alec had jumped in, James already seeing the man trying to chat up a nurse who looked extremely close to giving him something to make him stop talking. Quentin’s eye were full of wonder as he saw all the different cars, helicopters and people of all races dressed in strange clothes talking in little devices.

 

“Those are cell phones,” James started to explain, grabbing one from someone and giving it to Quentin to take a closer look. “We use them to talk with people who can be on the other side of the earth.”

 

Quentin slowly turned the sleek device in his hands, pressing the touch screen a few times and accidentally calling someone, laughing when he heard a voice coming from it. “And it does so instantly!” He said, giving the phone back to the man. “Might I open one to see how it works?”

 

James pulled the one he had on him, groaning when he saw the bullet holes it had “I’ll check to see if I have one that’s still in one piece or maybe get Major Boothroyd give you a few dozen, just in case you want to play with them.” They stopped at the ambulance’s doors, Alec jumping out to make room from it while the nurse and doctor rushed to start checking their patient, pulling at his shirt and pushing him to enter the car.

 

That scared Quentin and he clung to James’ hand. “They’re doctors; they won’t do anything bad to you. And if they cause you discomfort beyond taking your blood, I promise I will break their necks.” The agent looked the two straight in the eyes when he said that, making them fear for their lives.

 

“And I’ll make sure they don’t run,” Alec chimed in, smiling at Quentin. “I’m Alec Trevelyan, by the way.” He grabbed the young man’s hand again, giving it a firm shake as he pulled him in the ambulance. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Q.”

 

The young man frowned. “I am not named Q. I am Quentin Livingston.” He pulled his hand away before the woman could touch it, cradling it to his chest. “I will only do what Lord Bond tells me to do since he was entrusted with my safety and I trust him completely.”

 

James elbowed Alec before the man could make any sort of comments, moving to sit next to Quentin on the stretcher. “I am honoured to have your trust, Quentin.”

 

The nurse sighed and rolled her eyes, throwing her hands in the air. “We’re supposed to take a sample of his blood, _Lord Bond_. Explain to him how we’re going to do it and get him to pull his sleeve up and please do it _sometime this century_.” No one told them they were going to deal with a mental case or else they would have brought a psychiatrist with them.

 

All three men glared at her before James slowly pulled Quentin’s sleeve up, thin and soft fingers resting over his lips before he could start explaining. “I do know that a needle will be used and that it hurts when the skin is pricked, do not worry.”

 

The temptation was too big for James to resist it so he kissed the fingers over his lips and Quentin’s eyes instantly widened, face turning red again. He lowered his head and pulled his hand away, apologizing and begging the Alec and the two ambulance workers not to say anything about this incident.

 

Quentin avoided looking at anyone while his blood was taken and turned on his side once everything was over. He was sure something bad was going to happen to James because he had done something only a couple formed for a man and woman were allowed to do and he felt terrible. He remembered the beating he got when his mother had walked in on him and a stable boy touching lips when he was 11, the woman falling on her knees afterwards and begging him to never do it again or let anyone know he enjoyed that type of activity.

 

“James, he’s too cute for his own good,” Alec whispered, trying really hard not to gather him up in his arms and kiss his nose just to see how he would react. “And too innocent for the way the world is today. Are you sure you can handle explaining how everything works?” He raised his hands in defence when he saw the glare he was receiving, jumping out of the car when the driver said they had to move. “Enjoy your first car ride, Q. And relax; he’s done more things than kiss the fingers of a man and no one cared.”

 

James threw his broken phone after the other agent, cussing. Why did Alec insist on making everything harder for him? He was so going to end up sleeping on the sofa because his charge was going to be too afraid to share a bed with him. “Look, I’m—“

 

He was interrupted by the ambulance’s horn blasting off as the car started to move and suddenly finding himself with a lap full of a scared Quentin, thin arms tightly wrapped around his neck. “What is that infernal noise? Lord Bond, are we under attack?”

 

James moved his own arms around Quentin and arranged him in a more comfortable position on his lap, using the man’s shocked and confused state to his advantage so he could rest his chin on top of his head. “Don’t worry, we’re not. That noise will make sure that everyone gets out of our way and we reach our destination as fast as possible.”

 

He only realized how bad that actually was when he looked down at Quentin and saw him getting paler and paler as the car picked up speed, the man eventually fainting. He quickly laid him down on the stretcher and moved out of the nurse’s way, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

“Can you tell the damned driver to slow down and cut the siren off?” James asked, taking Quentin’s hand in his. “Because I think he’s going to faint every time he realizes how fast we’re moving.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your kudos and comments :) They help to keep me focused. 
> 
> As usual, please forgive any and all mistakes and most importantly, enjoy :)

The ride to the hospital took way longer than it was supposed to, the driver unable to go over 40 kilometres an hour without causing Quentin to turn green or faint – and when the young man lost consciousness for a third time in a row, the nurse threatened the driver before James could, smacking the man over the head a couple of times.

 

The slow drive permitted them to pop open the little window, James holding Quentin tight as the man stuck his face out of it, bombarding the agent with all sorts of questions. What kind of candles do they use to have so many colours? What is electricity exactly? Are they not afraid of the plague? How does a car work? Why are there so many different types of cars and did they all work the same?

 

And then he saw a building being built while they were waiting for a particularly long traffic light to change colours. James didn’t think that it was possible for the man’s eyes to get any wider and yet they did, mouth falling open. He tugged on James’ hand and pointed towards the building, not really sure on what question he should focus first.

 

“I’ll buy you books that explain everything and maybe get the Major to let you stay in his branch and explain in more detail how everything works,” James said, already making a list in his head that had Legos and building blocks on it because he was sure the young man would want to recreate all the beautiful buildings James was going to take him to see.

 

James was sure that they wouldn’t encounter anything that would shock the young man again, but the faiths were really against him and Quentin saw huge billboards that advertised clothing. And not just any clothing, beach ware and the tiniest bikinis James had ever his outside of a strip club. That overwhelmed the young man to the point where he ducked back inside the ambulance and started to apologize to the nurse, muttering something about birds being kept away from his eyes and promising that he would never do it again.

 

The woman was at a complete loss of how to react to that, awkwardly patting his head. “They are there for everyone to see,” she started to explain slowly, turning to look at James with a deep frown. “I’m sorry sir, but might I ask if he’s suffering of some sort of mental disease? Is he dangerous to be around? Because we need to know these things beforehand so we can be prepared.”

 

James softly massaged Quentin’s shoulders, trying to get him to relax. “He’s perfectly sane, just completely unprepared for the present.” The look he got from the woman told him that she was also starting to question his sanity and he couldn’t exactly blame her since he had accepted that the young man came from the past way too easily.

 

When they finally reached the MI6 founded hospital, Bill Tanner was waiting for them outside, tapping his foot and looking ready to fire everyone. “What in bloody hell took you so long? I had to send a helicopter to check and see that you hadn’t been attacked and killed on your way over.”

 

Quentin looked like he wanted to hop all over the place and inspect every little thing and maybe even take them apart with his bare hands, but he was too afraid to move from the agent. Not really because he thought he was going to be killed – even though he was sure everything in this new world could do that – but because the man’s superior was present there and he might decide to take James away from him if the man didn’t prove that he could keep him under control.

 

“Someone couldn’t keep his wits about him if I drove to fast and I think his lover threatened both the nurse and doctor with certain death if they tried sedating him,” the driver grumbled as he made his way inside the hospital, fast enough to avoid being grabbed by James and smacked.

 

Upon hearing that, Quentin jumped back and started shaking his head as he looked between the two men. “I assure you that what he said is pure slander and nothing else! Lord Bond is merely making sure that I am safe and if I were a man with no respect for others, I would ask for that one to be whipped for his words,” he stuttered, red to the tips of his ears. He knew what he was interested in, but he also knew what happened to those who were caught being that close to one another and he didn’t want to get the other man in any sort of trouble.

 

Bill was at a complete loss of what to say, Quentin’s discomfort and fear more than obvious and James decided that he had to find something to distract the young man. An idea entered his mind when he saw the automatic doors close behind the ambulance driver and he pushed Quentin in their direction, patting his back lightly. “You’ll enjoy these, trust me.”

 

Quentin frown turned into amazement when he saw the doors open by themselves, carefully moving closer to them. They closed and he jumped back, causing them to open again. “Is there…Is there someone there to open them?” Quentin asked, mouth forming a little ‘o’ when James shook his head, proceeding to start jumping in and out of the building, laughing in pure joy.

 

Of course this gave Tanner the perfect opportunity to drag the agent to the side, demanding to know what was going on and who the man was. “We did not find a single picture of him in any data bases and that’s impossible because everyone got caught on tape at least once in their entire life. 007, are you listening to me?”

 

“Not really,” James admitted, too busy watching as two children joined Quentin in his little game with the automatic doors. He couldn’t wait to show the young man the rest of the 21st century. “I’m going to give you a list of things I’ll need. Bring a few clothes over and send the rest to my apartment. And if you don’t nag me about how you are the Chief of Staff and not my personal butler, I’ll promise not to tell your wife about that time you ended up in a strip club.”

 

Tanner’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head. “That was your bloody fault in the first place anyway,” he hissed, looking around as if he expected his wife to walk out from a bush, bat in hand. “I hope you’re not expecting me to use my own money to buy whatever is on that list, unless you’re stooping so low as to blackmail your superior.”

 

The agent took out his wallet – a miracle that he still had it on him and it was still bullet hole free – giving the fuming man one of his cards. “Use it to get yourself a massage as well, Tanner. You look like you need it.”

 

“And just who do you think is to blame for that? I’ll give you a hint: he’s blond, has blue eyes, is probably immortal and his double oh designation ends with a bloody seven.” He was so tempted to use Bond’s card to pay for a more than deserved family vacation in Hawaii, but he was better than that.

 

James spent the next fifteen minutes dictating to the man what he was supposed to buy and he would have spent even more time on that if it wasn’t for the angry man that started to pick on his Quentin and the kids for fooling with the automatic doors, shouting at them about making them pay if they were broken and about how he doubted they could afford to do so.

 

“I’ll send you a text message if I think of anything else. I have no doubts that Alec knows his size, so contact him.” He cracked his knuckles as he turned his attention to the orderly who was now outright shouting at Quentin, but the nurse from the ambulance had gotten there first, already scolding the man for his outburst.

 

Quentin was hiding the kids behind him, chewing on his lips and looking beyond apologetic for the whole thing. James took his hand and strode into the hospital, ignoring the kids that shouted after them and promising to take him to a place in the near future where he could play with the automatic doors for as long as he liked.

 

The elevator ride was another big even for Quentin, although the young man had clung to James with all his might, shaking. He was glad when the ride was over, admitting that he would like to get to do it again now that he was aware that it was safe. He probably would have asked James if he could do that right now, but he was distracted by a nurse informing him that he had to change into a hospital gown.

 

“I think the clothes are defective, Lord James,” Quentin said as he poked his head out from behind a privacy screen. “They don’t seem to be able to cover quite everything, no matter how tightly I try to tie the strings together. Perhaps I am doing something wrong?”

 

The agent stopped the nurses from going to help Quentin – completely out of consideration for the young man and not because he wanted to see him naked or anything like that. “I’m going to come there and help you, okay?”

 

“I am terribly sorry for continuing to be such a huge inconvenience for you, Lord Bond. I promise that I’ve been dressing by myself for the past five years, but this is just…” He huffed in annoyance and tugged on the gown a few times, turning around to show James just where the problem was. “Do I have to wear some sort of pants with this? Or maybe I have made myself look stupid again by taking mine off?”

 

“No reason to apologize. You’re anything but an inconvenience and you are not stupid either.” James brain came to a full stop when his eyes landed on Quentin. It didn’t matter that he was holding the gown in such a way that he couldn’t see more than just his bare back. James had a pretty active imagination and it was beyond easy for him to picture the young man naked, pressed up against the wall, his mouth parted while James’ own was covering him in kisses.

 

“Is everything okay?” A doctor asked irritation clear in his voice. “We have a lot of tests that we need to run.”

 

The agent really needed to go visit on of his special friends to get rid of the post mission adrenaline. “I thought these types of gowns were outlawed or whatever,” James spoke up after clearing his throat and turning Quentin with his front towards him. “Don’t worry; they’ll get you one that covers everything in just a few moments.”

 

After Quentin was dressed in one of the new gowns, his examination started. He braved through most of them, even though he didn’t understand why a heavy, lead lined jacket was draped over him after which everyone ran out of the room for less than five seconds or why they stuck things to his head, chest and arms after covering him with a cold substance.

 

James was frustrated that he couldn’t explain beyond that they were worried he might have something that couldn’t be seen with the naked eye and that the machines were there to take fast paintings – because he had lost Quentin when he said ‘picture’ – of how his body looked on the inside to show the doctors if they were right or wrong.

 

Then came the MRI machine and James knew that he was in for a long test. When Quentin saw how it looked, he clung to the agent and started to beg him to take him back home, promising that he would do anything the man asked of him, just as long as he didn’t force him inside that monstrosity.

 

It was really hard for him to force the man into doing something he didn’t like, really not liking seeing those big green eyes full of unshed tears. “Can’t we skip over this? You said the rest of the tests were good he’s close to having a full blown panic attack.” James actually pleaded with the doctor, cupping Quentin’s face and brushing his thumb alongside his jawline.

 

The doctor’s eyes softened when he turned to Quentin, flashing him a reassuring smile. “I know it looks scary and you will not be the first to refuse to get in this machine. However, it won’t hurt at all and you will be in constant contact with us and your partner via a radio link that’s right in there.” The doctor leaned in the machine and pointed to something, not knowing that his patient had no idea what a radio even was.

 

He took a deep breath, nodded to himself and got inside the machine, the doctors having a harder time getting the agent to leave the room. They explained for more than ten minutes that his presence there might only make everything harder since the patient would try to move around to keep him in his sight.

 

“You’re famous for not following doctor’s instructions, Mister Bond. But please make this task easier for everyone involved and do what you’re bloody told without us having to call M,” one of the man warned, clicking his pen in an attempt to keep himself calm.

 

“Do you have the instruction manual for that thing?” The man looked at him funnily, but nodded. “I want to be sure that he’ll be okay for real in there and I know he loves learning new things.” He couldn’t help but be a little smug when it turned out that he was right, even if he did struggle with one particularly long word which was explained by a really tired nurse.

 

They wouldn’t let him keep the book, but a nurse did promise to copy it for him and give it to him in the morning. “I could never ask a caregiver to ignore the patients who need her just to do something for me,” Quentin said shocked, realizing that it had been something stupid when James started to laugh. “Ah, you have a wonderful machine to do that, don’t you?”

 

“Yes, you are right, Quentin. She won’t copy it by hand, don’t worry.” He turned to wink at the confused nurse. “Thank you very much for offering to do this for my friend, miss. If there’s any trouble with how much ink you use, I’ll pay for it.”

 

They were shown to one of the private rooms – no doubt, courtesy of M – and the first thing James did was to explain how everything in the bathroom worked. The first thing Quentin tried to do was to flush everything he could get his hands on down the toilet. James managed to stop him just in time, distracting him with the hair dryer, which scared the young man because it looked so much like a gun.

 

“No, no. This isn’t a gun. We use it to dry our hair, see? Warm air comes out and nothing more.” James turned the hair dryer towards him and turned it on, Quentin yelping and covering his head. The agent chuckled and let Quentin pat his head and check to see if there were any holes, letting the young man hold the machine and turning it on for him.

 

Explaining that now almost everyone could wash and even use hot water ended with Quentin jumping into the shower and turning it on while still dressed, almost burning himself in the process. James helped him take off his robe and almost had a heart attack because he came back just in time to stop the young man from taking the hair dryer in the shower with him.

 

Quentin was a bigger danger to himself than anyone else could ever be. “Never ever take anything electrical with you in the shower because it can kill you.” Quentin didn’t strike him as the kind of person you needed to tell the same thing twice to get through to him, but he still decided to stay there with him.

 

By the time he was done with his shower, James was sure that Quentin would fall asleep in his arms while he was helping him dry himself, but then he saw the working television and all his tiredness disappeared instantly. He poked the screen a few times and then tried to grab a little dog, James laughing as he pulled him back to the bed.

 

“Think of that as something that shows a series of moving paintings that tell a story. There are no little people trapped in it, if that is what you were thinking,” he teased him, unable to hold himself back from tapping his nose.

 

Quentin blushed again, pulling the covers almost completely over his head as he turned on his side. “I was definitely not thinking of anything as ridiculous as that! I am a man of science and I know that it’s impossible for people that small to exist,” he grumbled.

 

His curiosity won over his decision to treat James with silence for the affront he had brought to him and less than five minutes later, Quentin was leaning close to the man, trying to understand how it was possible for someone to get the moving paintings to change from one subject to another by simply using a little black box.

 

“Wait, I think I have the right channel for you,” James said suddenly, opening the channel list and going directly to the Discovery Channel. “They explain all sorts of things and you are already not paying attention to me anymore, are you?” He chuckled when the young man shook his head, grabbing his hand when the men on the screen blew something up.

 

James tried to stay awake for as long as possible, but he fell asleep during a documentary about the Second World War, their fingers entwined. He was still wary of everything that went around him, opening one eye and surveying the room each time Quentin took a sharp breath or jumped.

 

It was close to sunrise when he heard the door open, a large shadow falling over him. The agent pretended to try and turn in the chair, opening his eyes just in time to see the duke’s bodyguard pulling a gun and pointing it towards the sleeping Quentin.

 

Since the hospital belonged to MI6, James couldn’t help but wonder where all the heavily armed security guards where and how it had been possible for a wanted man to get so close to his obvious target.

 

When he heard the safety being taken off, he instantly slipped back into double oh mode and acted fast. He threw a tray in the man’s direction, jumping off of the chair which he then used to smash it against the large man, hitting him over and over until the bulky fingers dropped the gun. The agent would have liked to continue hitting the fallen man, but stopped when he felt shaking arms wrap around his torso.

 

Alec Trevelyan himself appeared from behind the door that leads to the emergency exit stairs, limping and cussing in Russian. He hissed and tried to fight the people that came to put him into a stretcher away, dead set on reaching James and talking with him. “I managed to take the duke down before he blew up the ER, but that bloody bastard shot me before I could deal with him. You and Q okay?” He asked once James came near him, a grin spreading on his lips when he saw how tightly he was holding on to Quentin’s hands, the younger man completely hidden behind him.

 

James leaned on his injured leg to keep him from saying anything stupid, knowing his friend well enough to anticipate when he was planning to open his mouth for the sake of embarrassing him. “If we ignore the obvious shock, he’s okay.”

 

Alec took a few deep breaths and waited for the pain to become bearable again, thankful for the morphine that slowly entering his veins. “You’re a complete bastard, you know that James?” He pushed himself forward suddenly, grabbing one of Quentin’s arms. “And please forgive me for using such vile language around your virgin years, but James is to blame.” He let go of him before James could hurt him again, although he had reached a point in which he was sure he couldn’t feel pain even if he was pushed off the tallest building in the world.

 

Quentin instantly let go of James in favour of covering his ears, looking up at him. “Can one’s ears be anything other than virgin? Do people do things to them?”

 

Alec opened his mouth again, but James stuffed the man’s bloody tie in it to keep him from talking. “It’s just a figure of speech, Quentin. It simply means that you are not used to hearing profanities.” He wrapped his arm around his shoulders and pulled him to his chest. “You’re completely safe now, we can go back to sleep.”

 

“I’m safe now?” Quentin muttered lowering his head after the agent nodded. It was clear that Quentin was worried about something, but James wasn’t going to press him to talk about it if he didn’t want to.

 

They both ended up watching the sun rise from the hospital room, James dozing against the young man’s back, listening to him comparing it to the last one he’d seen back in his time. He was thinking that if hell froze over and he became a double oh agent like himself, his targets would throw themselves at him and offer him the information he needed on a silver platter.

 

But their private little world was brought down around them the moment Bill Tanner entered the room, Quentin moving away from James so fast that the agent ended up smacking his head against the window.

 

“Ah, I am dreadfully sorry, 007. I thought you were both asleep and wanted to surprise our young man here with the clothes you had me buy for him.” The mocking tone of his voice as well as his grin clearly said that he wasn’t sorry at all.

 

“It is still very rude to enter someone’s room without announcing yourself first. What if I was in a state of undress?” Quentin said in his lord voice before James could stop him.

 

Tanner put the bags on the bed, crossing his hands over his chest. “Frankly, I’m surprised you aren’t since Bond is involved and you have no idea how many times I walked in on him and his—“

 

Why was everyone so quick to present him as a male whore in front of Quentin? “Tanner, that’s enough!” James snapped, grabbing his arm and dragging him out of the room. “I’ll let you dress in privacy while I go exchange some heavy words with my friend.”

 

Quentin started to go through the bags after he was left alone, frowning when he brushed his hands against the clothes. They didn’t look exactly like the clothes he saw the men on the streets, but he found he liked these more. There was still the problem of how exactly to put them on.

 

The shirts had buttons and he knew how to deal with them. However, the undergarments were much smaller and tighter than he thought was possible – the only reason he realized the tiny pants were supposed to go under the bigger pants was because he remembered the billboards with the women – and the pants themselves seemed to have a metal line instead of buttons.

 

The bags also had little books filled with colourful paintings of people dressed in things similar to what James had the man buy for Quentin. He averted his eyes instantly when he reached the ones with the men dressed in nothing but undergarments. But curiosity won over his fear and he started to peek through his fingers.

 

He pulled a pair of underpants on himself, checking to see if it looked just like in the painting, wondering if James had any paintings of him in a similar state to what he was seeing in the strange book that would have been thrown in a fire back in his own time. He chewed on his lower lip to the point of drawing blood, shaking his head when he felt something stir down, quickly grabbing a shirt and starting to button it up.

 

When James walked in, regretting that he did not have a bottle of alcohol within reach, he found Quentin spread on the bed in nothing but underpants and a haphazardly buttoned white shirt, fighting to figure out how to unzip a pair pants – and it was at this point that the agent decided that all the Gods and powerful forces in the universe hated him and wanted to torment him by showing him something he couldn’t yet have.

 

James grabbed the pants and helped Quentin into them, then focused on buttoning up his shirt right. “There, done. Though I think you should put on a cardigan as well since it’s quite chilly outside.” At this point, the more clothes he had on, the better.

 

However, finding one that he didn’t make him want to gouge his eyes out proved to be quite hard and the fact that Quentin kept calling all of them beautiful didn’t help at all. He eventually settled on a light brown one, telling himself that he will never let Tanner buy clothes again unless his wife went with him.

 

Quentin was discharged extremely fast, James only needing to sign two papers before he was told he could leave. When he turned around, he found the young man playing with the automatic doors again, the two kids from the previous night right next to him.

 

The only difference was that this time they were being guarded by Alec who was sitting in a wheelchair nearby and glaring at everyone who even dared to whisper a complaint. As long as there were no emergencies, there was no reason why they couldn’t have fun with the doors.

 

“Don’t forget to visit me. I got shot because of you,” Alec yelled after them, quickly pushing his chair away when he saw the old woman with the iron hand and that liked to tug on his ears whenever he did something he wasn’t supposed to do running down the hall after him.

 

A nurse stopped them before they could get into the Aston Martin, giving Quentin the Xeroxed copy of the MRI machine manual. “Oh, thank you so very much, my lady! You do not know how much this means to me,” the young man said, giving James the book so he could take the woman’s hands and kiss them.

 

Before he could get himself a phone number or worse still, a date, James pushed him into the car, made sure he was buckled up and slowly drove away. He let the scenery steal Quentin’s attention before he sped up and by the time the young man realized how fast they were going, he didn’t care anymore. He actually asked James to go faster, which the man did, uncaring of the many speeding tickets he was going to get – Quentin’s joyful laughter made him feel ecstatic and he knew M wouldn’t allow anyone to take his driver’s licence away.

 

Jams stopped every time Quentin asked, used to his role as a teacher by now. Some questions had to do with how the places were called and who owned them and for those, James used the internet to answer, listening closely to Quentin’s own tales of the previous owners and what used to be there.

 

Somewhere between the fourth and fifth stop, James decided that his apparent infatuation with the young man had nothing to do with his post mission needs and that he would like to have a relationship with him. He sent a few texts, asking for help and Alec sent one back that only had a ‘lol okay’ in it.

 

Eve opted to call him and yell at him for ten minutes, although didn’t get everything because he was too busy watching the sun falling on Quentin’s hair as he read from his book, using a tablet on which a dictionary had been uploaded to search for the words he did not understand - James thought that the man held the book too close to his face and wondered if he had eye problems.

 

“Look, Eve, will you help me or not? I have no idea how to go about courting a man from the past and I am afraid that so far I only have Alec on my side.” However, James completely missed her answer, instead focusing on the cars that had been trailing them ever since they left the hospital. He recognized two of them as belonging to MI5 and a surprisingly three to that one MI that didn’t exist and with which he totally did not collaborate on the mission that landed him Quentin.

 

“Bond, did you hear me? I said that I’ll help you only because the two of you together can’t do anything right.” Eve had that tone that said she knew more than she was saying. But at least he got her on her side and that was all he currently cared about.

 

A woman had started talking with Quentin and he looked beyond uncomfortable. James could see her lips moving, talking so fast that she wasn’t letting the man saying anything and that was James’ cue that he had to step in. “I’m indebted to you, Miss Moneypenny. Now you’ll have to excuse me.”

 

He closed the phone while Eve was still talking with him and when Quentin saw him making his way over to him, he jumped up and met him halfway. The woman seemed disappointed when she saw the newcomer casually drape his arm around her target, huffing when her offer to introduce him to one of her friends was shot down.

 

The next time they stopped, Quentin held on to James’ hand, unconsciously moving closer to him whenever someone talked too much with them or asked for either of them for their phone number - he understood by that what those worse, but he hadn’t met anyone he wished to keep in contact with, nor did he actually own a phone.

 

James realized that some people might think they were lovers, but he didn’t think anyone would dare say anything about it out loud, especially since he glared hard at whoever looked at them for too long. But he was dead wrong and someone did start to ask them about their relationship, Quentin going pale in the face before he bolted to the car in which he locked himself in.

 

He remembered how, a few years back, he had accidentally walked in on his oldest brother undressing one of the stable boys while touching lips and rubbing against each other. He let out a little surprised noise and when he saw his brother’s eyes look at him with anger, he tried to run and hide.

 

But he tripped over a stack of hay and his brother was on him in an instant, slapping him at first and ordering him to forget everything. “I’ll kill you if you say anything about this to anyone, you hear me? And no one’s going to care because you’re the youngest and I’m the oldest!” He grabbed his head and hit it against the ground a couple of times and just when Quentin was sure that he was going to pass out, the stable boy stopped his brother.

 

The boy used his sleeve to clean his face a bit, smiling cruelly at him. “I’m sure young Lord Quentin won’t say anything, especially since I saw him being kissed by the new servant just yesterday.”

 

Quentin nodded and ran away from the stables, hiding in his room, sending away the man he was interested in him that had come to make sure he was okay and to take care of him. He kept his distance from the servant and his mouth shut, but his brother and the stable boy still got caught.

 

His mother was sobbing and his father was shaking with anger, beating the stable boy before sending him off to a faraway land. Quentin sneaked a peek at his brother and saw pure hatred and jealousy directed at him. Why should the younger one have someone that he cared if the elder brother lost his?

 

Two days later, Quentin was suddenly awoken in the middle of his night by his father and ordered to come outside. The young man’s blood froze when he saw the servant boy he liked being dragged out of the servants’ quarters by his hair and tossed in the back of a carriage. He looked questioningly at his father and the man slapped him as hard as he could.

 

“If I ever hear anything like this in the future, I will burn that room of yours which you call a laboratory and send you to our relatives in Spain!” Quentin was sure that his father was going to hit him again, but the man pulled him into a tight hug and kissed the top of his head. “This is for your own good. If anyone sees you act like this, you will be killed. Do you understand?”

 

He was brought out of his memories by James’ hand resting on his knee and he realized that the man was looking at him while the car was idling. “I must beg for your forgiveness, Lord Bond. Would you mind repeating yourself? I am extremely tired and my mind was in another place.”

 

James smiled at him and squeezed his knee before moving his hand up to brush his hair out of his eyes. “I was asking you if you were hungry and if you wanted to see why it’s called fast food.”

 

Quentin rubbed his eyes and yawned, leaning against the car’s door. “Thank you for being so considerate, Lord Bond. But I simply wish to get to a place that has a bed so I can sleep.”

 

“James. Please call me James.”

 

“I do not address even my own father by his given name, but if you prefer to be called Lord James than I–”

 

He cupped Quentin’s chin and turned his head to look in his eyes. “No, just James. Or Bond, if you so wish. I was never a lord, nor will I ever be, even if I might have been knighted a few years ago by the queen because I saved the world for the nth time.” He winked and ruffled the young man’s hair

 

“James…James…” Quentin tried out the name without the title, smiling brightly.

 

When James finally pulled into his building’s parking lot, Quentin was dead on his feet, leaning against the older man’s side. he didn’t notice that they took an elevator up or that the apartment’s door opened only after James punched in some numbers, used a car and pressed his thumb in a certain way against the handle.

 

James guided him to his bedroom and helped him take his shoes and pants off, pulling the blanket over him. “I’ll sleep in the other room, okay?” He looked down and saw that the man was sleeping, so he caressed the side of his face and planted a chaste kiss against the top of his head. “Sweet dreams.”

 

When he tried to move away, Quentin’s hand shut up and his fingers dug in his shirt. “Can I ask you not to leave me alone? The noises here are strange, even if I know they come from cars and I will be unable to sleep for more than thirty minutes.” He lifted the covers and scooted over a bit. “I promise that it will be just for tonight.”

 

James knew by how shaky Quentin’s voice that it wouldn’t be just for that night. And it was more than understandable, the man having been ripped out of a place that made sense and worked in a certain way and thrust into a new world where the only things he truly understood where behind glass cases in museum.

 

The following night, James got into bed without being asked holding the covers up until Quentin understood and happily jumped in, at a respectable distance from him. Not that it counted since the moment he fell asleep, the young man unconsciously sought James’ body heat, cuddling with him or outright climbing on him and using him as a pillow.

 

Their closeness also kept James’ nightmares at bay, the agent surprised at how well rested he felt and at how easily sleep came to him without the aid of alcohol especially since the last time that happened, the man had been in university, not even thinking about enrolling or becoming a trained and legal assassin.

 

Then, on the third day, he woke up to an empty bed and the moment he realized that, flashes of all the people that he had allowed himself to care for and that died entered his mind. He jumped out of bed, grabbing the gun he had hidden between the mattress and the headboard and started to tip toe around the apartment, slowly making his way to the bathroom from which he could hear whispered curses coming.

 

He pushed the door gently open, a sigh of relief leaving his lips. “What are you doing, Quentin?” He asked, dropping the gun in the hamper basked before the other could see it and get scared.

 

Large green eyes turned to him as Quentin scratched his stubble. “I wanted to shave, but I don’t know how to use any of these things and neither has instructions.” He frowned lightly, almost pouting.

 

James walked past him and pulled out a sleek black box from his medicine cabinet, opening it and showing him the razor inside it. “Would you let me shave you?” Anyone who knew James, know that was the agent's twisted way of asking if he was trusted - because you wouldn't present your neck to just anyone who was wielding a sharp razor.

 

And it seemed that somehow Quentin caught on to its deeper meaning because he took one of James’ hands and kissed it, resting his face against it. “Thank you. I haven't been shaved by someone in ages and the last person who did that was sent away." His good mood instantly disappeared when his mind drifted back to the servant boy he’d liked. He hoped he was safe wherever he had been sent and in the service of a kind lord.

 

James noticed that and kneeled next to him, cupping his face gently. "I won't let anyone send me away from your side if you don't want it to happen." He did a bold thing and rubbed their cheeks together, wrapping his arms around the frozen man. "If feels as if I need a shave myself so how about after I do you, you do me?

 

Quentin blinked a couple of times and looked around the bathroom as if he was expecting to see someone else with them. "If you trust me to do that, than yes.” He scratched at his face, trying to cover up his blush. “But I must warn you that it's my first time shaving someone else and I don't want to hurt you so please be patient with me."

 

"We'll go at your own pace, do not worry." He rubbed his cheek against Quentin's again, pulling him up. "You get ready while I go bring a chair, okay?"

 

No matter how slow James moved, he was only able to enjoy ten minutes of Quentin, half-dressed and fully relaxed. But he did get to enjoy the other man on his lap, his chest flush against his for almost an hour, the man moving painfully slow as he shaved, trying his best to do a good job and not hurt him. James even got to rest his hands on the young man's lower back at Quentin's request, just to be sure that he wouldn't suddenly slip off.

 

"You did well," James said afterwards, even though he knew he would get a rash. "And don't worry about taking too long. You'll move faster the next time now that you know you won't cut me." He really hoped he wouldn't. He loved holding him in his arms when he was awake and aware of it, talking softly right next to his ear about whatever he wanted - really the man had a gift of making anything sound interesting and James was sure that he would be fascinated even if he simply listed random names from the phone book.

 

The two grew closer still over the next few months, Quentin befriending Alec and accepting his nickname for him, Eve who he started to see as an older sister and Tanner who he saw as a sort of an uncle while he had everyone in MI6 wrapped around his little finger almost as much as he had James.

 

Now Major Boothroyd was his favourite, second only to James and the major had adopted him in all but papers. It was thanks to the old man that the agent ended up turning his extra room into a laboratory for Quentin instead of a bedroom, so he could have a place where he could store his own gadgets after he had learned how to take things apart, improve them and put them back as they were.

 

He also learned from Boothroyd’s underlings what a computer was and how to use the internet, although there had been one incident in which he accidentally ended up on a porn site in the middle of the night and James woke up to loud moans and an embarrassed Quentin who was pleading with him to make the movie stop – the conversation that followed afterwards had been one of the most awkward things he had to do in his entire life.

 

The old man also gifted Quentin with a mug with a Q scrabble tile on it to use while at MI6 and James ended having to buy the game for the young man. Actually, because of that mug, his poker nights with Alec, Eve and Bill turned into scrabble nights, all of them getting their ass handed to them by Quentin.

 

“I refuse to play for money ever again if he’s on your team, Bond.” Alec grumbled, holding up his empty wallet while Quentin grinned at him and fanned himself with the bills. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he was friends with bloody Shakespeare!”

 

Quentin pointed at his watch. “James said you won that off of him last time at poker. Put that up for this last round and I will bet all the money against it and as an extra, my collaboration for the next time we play this.”

 

“You have yourself a deal! James, prepare to lose your man and everything you own, because I am winning this round!” Alec jumped up, shaking hands with the young man while everyone else in the room shook their heads in dismay. There were some things that even double oh agents would never learn, it seemed.

 

Boothroyd also bought his unofficial son countless tools and Lego sets, James silently cursing the young man’s fascination with the latter only because his office was littered with the blasted things and he always stepped on them whenever he went to check on him. He was sure that he had their shapes forever embedded in the soles of his feet and the agent even approached his Quartermaster a couple of times to try to get him to use them as weapons.

 

“Is this why this young man was asking me if there was any way he could put exploding powder in them?” Boothroyd demanded, pointing at a guilty looking Quentin who was whipping his new glasses against his shirt. “Do grow up, 007.”

 

“I didn’t mean to cause trouble for you, James.” Quentin whispered in James’ ear while the Major continued to list all the reasons why the double oh agent was still supposed to be in kindergarten and not out in the field.

 

“You’re not to blame. Yelling at me is one of the major’s favourite hobbies,” James whispered back, rubbing his cheek against Quentin’s. “You want me to shave you tonight? Or do you want to follow Alec’s advice and grow a beard to see how you’d look?”

 

That was the moment in which the rest of the people present there decided that their desks, computer screens and cups needed their full attention, the memory of what happened to the poor fool who outright asked the agent on the first day they came there if he was sleeping with the young man still fresh in their minds.

 

Even the major realized what was going on and stopped mid-sentence in favour of ducking under a car to check and see if the improvements the new R did to it were indeed up to his expectations.

 

“I am afraid that my face was not made for beards at all and I refuse to put up with all this infernal itching.” He moved back to look at James, furrowing his brow.

 

“But you wonder how I would look with one, aren’t you?” He chuckled when the received a determined nod and moved to gently scratch Quentin’s face. “I prefer my face clean shaven and I am also not a huge fan of the itching part, but I’ll make an exception for you.” He ignored the five people who chocked on their teas and the fact that the Boothroyd and R both bumped their heads against the car when they tried to sit up.

 

“I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want—“

 

“No, I don’t feel forced if it makes you happy.” More chocking and someone dropped something that caused a small explosion. This was ridiculous even for a spy agency, especially since they were more like IT than actual spies. “Let’s go home and get you shaved before you scratch your face off.”

 

By the time they were out of the building, every MI got a mail from the MI6 Q Branch which informed them that James Bond, agent 007, famous womanizer who never did anything he didn’t want on or off mission, was growing a beard because his future husband, Quentin Livingston had asked him to.

 

“No, they are not really getting married!” M shouted thirty minutes later into her phone, pouring herself another drink. This whole bloody situation was going to end with her in rehab, she knew it. “That mail most definitely did not come from our servers and if it did, we’ve been hacked!” She ended the call instantly and threw the phone against, almost hitting Eve in the head with it. “Please tell me that there’s an urgent business which only Bond can handle.”

 

Eve shrugged apologetically, moving aside to show her irritated boss the countless gift baskets that occupied her office. “I was actually about to go home for the day, but first I need to know if I should have someone drop these at agent Bond’s house or if I should have them destroyed and order everyone to pretend like they never existed.”

 

She cursed the day Bond became an agent and the one in which she must have lost her mind and delegated him to take care of Quentin. But how was she supposed to know that the two would become so close? She was MI6, not MI13 so of course she didn’t have a fortune teller to see into the future – not that the man actually said anything other than ‘the flow of time has not been disturbed’ after they found out that Quentin was indeed from the past.

 

“You can bloody well shove all of them up Bond’s arse for all I care, but make sure that Quentin doesn’t see them because I really do not want to see him heavily sedated in our medical wing.” She glanced at the drawer where she kept her gun and let her mind wander for a moment.

 

“Quentin will be beyond devastated if you shot James,” Eve chimed from the door, looking the woman dead in the eyes.

 

“Get out of my office.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are rumors that there's an MI who deals with extraterrestrial activities. Think of it as the UK version of Area 51


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kudos and comments :)
> 
> A warning for a tiny little panic attack in this chapter. 
> 
> As usual, please forgive any and all mistakes and enjoy <3

James fumed quietly in a chair as M went on and on, scolding him for his little outburst in front of her office. The man was important, she said. She didn’t care James got bad vibes from him or whatever horribly lame excuse the double oh agent had: he still had to respect the man who pretty much paid for everything Quentin wanted and who also allowed James to live with the young man.

 

“He said he wanted to take him from me,” James snapped, running both of his hands over his face. He’ll be dammed if he allowed that to happen, especially after realizing the night before after a very clumsy kiss – that was more of a head butt than anything really, but if he had read the whole thing right, he’d have all the time in the world to teach him how to kiss – initiated by the younger man that he never wanted to let him go. “And the money Quentin uses is still his money, so that point of your argument is useless as far as I am concerned.

 

Was he being childish? Yes. Did he care? No. Did he see Quentin as a thing to be owned instead of a human? Hell bloody no, which was more than he could say about his supposed descendant – DNA tests be damned, while he was on that subject. What was Quentin to him then? Someone he deeply cared for, an innocent for whom he’d lie his life down if needed and the current centre of James’ universe.

 

“Yes, your current centre of the universe,” M interjected, arms crossed over her chest. “And when you get bored of him or some other poor soul crosses your path, you’ll forget all about him.” She slapped the desk when James tried to interrupt her. “That man is Quentin’s family and it is perfectly normal for him to want to get Quentin home and to breathe down my neck about allowing a dangerous agent around his ancestor as well as insisting we fix the bloody machine faster.”

 

James’ frown only deepened. He was sure there wasn’t going to be anyone as interesting or dear to him after Quentin. Maybe more sexually attractive from society’s point of view, but as far as he was concerned, Quentin could start another Trojan war with his looks, mind and innocence.

 

“Do you also see me as a ‘manwhore’, M?”

 

The woman clicked her tongue, leaning over the table to pat the agent’s shoulder which was a highly unusual show of affection from her, proof that the whole day had been beyond exhausting. “My boy, you are London’s number one when it comes to that. Casanova would probably pay you handsomely for you to be his teacher.” She snorted when he saw James’ offended look. Really, what sort of answer did he think she’d give him? “Take it as a compliment, the only one you’ll probably get from me since you are horrible at following orders.”

 

“And yet I successfully finish every mission you throw my way.” His eyes become unfocused as he pondered on something. “For Quentin, I think I can try to work harder and avoid shagging my targets.”

 

M’s mouth dropped open when she realized that the agent was speaking the truth. The fool had managed to fall in love. And it was again for someone he shouldn’t have had. At least the last time when it happened, he had a clear target that kept him rooted in reality, although that hadn’t been good either. “You are a double oh agent and he is not,” she said carefully, mulling over what would happen if the agent suddenly found himself force to choose between England and Quentin. “If something where to happen to Quentin, if he were to get kidnapped by—“

 

“It will never happen! I will not allow it! I’ll teach him how to defend himself and Alec will also help with that.” He interrupted fast, turning to glare at her. He didn’t have the best track record when it came to fully protecting his lovers and ensuring that they would get to live another day, but for Quentin he would do everything he could and more. “And I know I won’t be alone in protecting him. From Alec, through the whole of MI6 and ending with M13, they’ll constantly keep watch over him while I am on a mission. He is their darling Q after all.”

 

“You won’t go on any missions until we send Quentin back home.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a migraine coming on. She always got minor ones whenever she spoke to Bond, but this time it promised to be big one.

 

“What if we don’t? Send him back home, I mean. What if he stays here? “It had to be a great idea. Quentin was happy in this era, always picking up new things and sharing them with James – and he really didn’t care that he already knew how to use them – looking at him with huge, green eyes filled with wonder.

 

He had never heard the young man say anything about wanting to go back, even though there were some nights when he thought he heard Quentin whimpering in his sleep, muttering someone’s name. But he calmed down and even smiled when he wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, so if he did indeed lonely, all James had to do was remind him that he was there for him.

 

James was already planning to take the young time traveller around the world to celebrate everything – on a boat, not with an airplane, since he got scared and sick simply from James taking him on a flight simulator in an amusement park – which would culminate with both of them getting a nice tan on a private island owned by an old friend of his which owed him quite a few favours.

 

“Just how much have you drank before coming here, Bond?” M’s steel voice cut through his thoughts and he looked up to see the woman tapping some files.

 

“I am not drunk,” James said offensively, moving closer to his boss so she could smell his breath. “Quentin hates the way I smell when I drink and it always takes me half an hour to convince him to let me take the sofa instead of him.”

 

It took M all of her will to hold herself from grabbing James’ ear and tug on them as a mother would do to an unruly son – which she admitted to being when she was tired enough. “I don’t know why I thought you could keep it in your bloody pants, Bond. I might as well call that bastard now an apologize in advance for all the trauma you –”

 

James grabbed the phone from her before she could even unlock it. “We simply share a bed and nothing more. Christ, M, I do have a conscience despite my double oh status and licence to kill! I did not touch his body in the way you’re thinking.”

 

If she were any less than the woman she was or if she was as half as unscrupulous as most of the people around her thought she was, she’d suggest James to sleep with him and see if he still thought the same about Quentin afterwards. But she wasn’t and she did care for both of them. “Even though your reassurances usually do nothing for me, this time I feel a bit better hearing that. Still…”

 

“Still, there is nothing you can do and I talked treason just now, didn’t I?” James finished for her, hitting the desk when she nodded. Why couldn’t things be easy for him for once in his life?

 

“However, if Quentin asked me personally not to send him back and allow him to stay here with you, I would have to rethink everything. Maybe even suggest to MI13 that the timeline would be damaged if that actually happened.” She rested her hands under her chin, looking at the hopeful agent with one eye. “I am sure their local fortune-teller would corroborate everything I say if someone opened his eyes.”

 

“If I wasn’t afraid of turning into stone, I’d kiss you,” James said on his way out, closing the doors behind him right before M threw something after him. Now that he knew he had a chance of getting to stay by Quentin’s side until he croaked and died, his mood had greatly increased and had huge smile on his face to show it.

 

“I see you decided to abandon the vagabond look,” Eve said, pointing at his face. “What happened? Did you get tired of people dropping coins in your coffee or cops pulling you over because they thought you stile the Aston Martin?”

 

“Quentin caught me scratching with the back of a knife and instantly pulled me into the bathroom to offer me relief.” He winked at her and took her hand in his, planting a kiss on her knuckles. “Speaking of which, is he still busy in Q branch? I need to keep him in the dark about something with which I need your help.”

 

The woman arched her eyebrows, pulling her hand away. “I imagine porno proofing a laptop without cutting all access to the internet is even harder to do than it sounds. Poor boy has the worst of luck when it comes to internet searches, doesn’t he?

 

James rubbed the back of his neck, not sure on which feeling he should focus first: embarrassment on Quentin’s behalf, annoyance that he hadn’t thought about wrapping a towel around himself when he ran out of the bathroom, annoyance that it happened again and it resulted in Quentin getting a pretty strong panic attack and then made him unable to look him in the eyes for the next two hours because he saw him naked or on how helpless he had felt when he couldn’t get him to open the bathroom door so he could try to calm him down.

 

He went for the third option, despite the way his fingers itched in a manner that only a gun trigger could help scratch. He should have emptied his gun in the laptop while the other naked man was still looking. Scare the man just in case their shady site bypassed whatever firewalls or whatever the Mi6 boffins would put up. “The bloody safe search option was on. I have no idea how he managed to end up with an advertisement for that. I don’t suppose I could go after the owner of that website?”

 

Eve chuckled, getting up and wrapping her arms around James’. “No, Bond, you really couldn’t. Video chat websites are not exactly considered terrorist cells that threaten the world, even though it is a clear threat to our Quentin’s innocence.” She leaned a bit closer to the agent and opened her mouth to say something, but she stopped when he saw how dangerous James’ narrowed eyes looked. Well, maybe she could hold back on her little joke about only him allowed to take Quentin’s innocence for when she had something on him.

 

***

 

Pretending not to hear James ask the Major if there was anything he could do to make sure that no erotica themed pages would be accessed again by accident had been extremely hard, Quentin glancing at the door and thinking about running away and never coming back. The only thing that kept him from actually doing that was James who squeezed his hand and told him that he’d be back after he finished his meeting with Lady M.

 

“Don’t worry, Quentin. You are not the first to accidentally go on a site like that nor are you the last.” The major said kindly, trying to make the young man feel less embarrassed and failing miserably.

 

He didn’t even understand how it happened this time! He was simply searching for some pictures of cufflinks and watches for a little secret project which major Boothroyd was more than happy to help him with – a thank you gift for James that was meant to keep him save while he was out on missions which everyone told him they were dangerous – when something a window popped up suddenly and the man started talking with him.

 

Quentin tried to hit the giant red X button as he had been instructed in the past, but that didn’t do what it was supposed to do and he was suddenly face to face with a blond man – the video was so good that Quentin could see that his hair roots were brown – who claimed his name was James. All he did was blink and the shirt was suddenly off – his muscles weren’t as toned as his James’ – and his hands were moving towards his extremely tight pants.

 

“Sir, can you please not do that? I imagine they might be beyond uncomfortable, b-but please keep them on!” Quentin stuttered, closing his eyes as he tried to find the button to shut off the power.

 

“Aw, you’re so sweet. I actually saw you go red. Is this your first time? I’ll still charge you the same amount even if it is. And don’t even try to convince me otherwise. I get guys who try to do that at least twice an hour and the bills don't pay themselves,” the man said, quickly starting to explain a set of rules that Quentin really couldn’t be bothered to even try to understand, all the while ignoring his apparent customer’s weak attempts at explain that it was a mistake and that he would pay, but just please close the camera.

 

He didn’t know what on earth possessed him to actually look up when the man asked him to look at him and tell him what he was comfortable with, but when he found himself staring at something that looked like a giant, purple male organ, he yelled for his James on top of his lungs.

 

Of course the agent instantly appeared from the bathroom, holding a gun and asking what was wrong and who was attacking them. Quentin’s first instinct had been to dive and hide his face in his chest, but when he turned around he realized that James was naked.

 

All air left him and he felt his face grow hotter, not helped by the fact that James walked closer to him and started to check his temperature, seemingly unaware of his nakedness. The other James, meanwhile, started to explain something about charging double for situations like this.

 

“You’re naked!” Quentin shouted after about a minute of just staring, running in the bathroom and shutting the door tightly behind him, trying to remember how to properly breathe. When he realized that his pants where tight and that the other man might have also seen that, he panicked even more and started to cry.

 

Not to mention that he had stared at a man’s nakedness in front of another one who would surely tell on him to his father and James would be sent away just like the servant had. Only he realized he cared for James a lot more since the man made his heart beat irregularly and his stomach do strange flips and turns whenever he smiled at him or touched him in an extremely friendly manner.

 

“Quentin? I have pants on now and I stopped the video so please open the door?” James started to hit the door with his shoulder when he heard nothing other than sharp gasps and sobs. “Quentin, remember when I told you that things like that are normal today? No one is going to do anything bad to you or me for accessing that site, so please open the door for me?”

 

But James’ patience was completely lost to his panic and he busted down the door, instantly realizing that Quentin was having a panic attack. He sat down next to him and pushed a paper bag to his mouth, rubbing his back and instructing him how to breathe. When the world become less sharp, Quentin rested his head against James’ shoulder, explaining what had happened – although he left out what he was searching exactly – while the man gently rubbed his back, assuring him that he was safe and that no one would punish them for anything.

 

“I didn’t mean to stare at you, so please don’t get offended and please don’t tell father. I promise it wasn’t intentional,” Quentin finally managed to say, closing his eyes when he felt James’ gently tilting his head back to look him in the eyes.

 

“Can you please look at me?” He sighed when Quentin shook his head, but didn’t push the subject and simply bumped their foreheads together. “I didn’t even realize you saw me and to be honest, I kind of forgot I was naked when I heard your scream. But I would not be offended even if you stared at my nakedness for hours on purpose. I am not going to leave your side because of that and your father is not here; even if he were, he’d have a hard time getting me away from you if you didn’t want that to happen.”

 

He did eventually calm down and allowed James to guide him into bed, tightly wrapping around him, afraid that his father and brother would suddenly appear and take him away. He didn’t know what to say or how to apologize and when he did finally turn to look at James, cheeks covered in a light blush since he still couldn’t get the image of him naked out of his head, the man ruffled his hair and smiled softly at him.

 

“Is it okay if I kiss your forehead and nose? I just want to show you that everything is okay and that no one will bust down through the door if I do that.”

 

Quentin realized that it was ridiculous to expect anyone from his time to suddenly appear in this bedroom, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. He fisted his hands in James’ shirt as he nodded, concentrating more on the door than on the man’s soft lips. He sighed in relief when nothing bad happened, rubbing his nose against James’ without realizing it.

 

“Remember what I told you: no one and nothing will harm you if you want to be closer to anyone or show someone more affection, regardless of their gender.” James smiled when the younger man nodded, moving them in a more comfortable position and settling to watch the documentary, gently rubbing circles with his fingers on Quentin’s arm.

 

But there was one thing Quentin needed to do to put himself at ease and, after taking a deep breath which got James to look down at him with worry in his eyes, he clumsily bumped their lips together. He turned on his side and pulled the covers over himself, feeling like his heart was about to beat out of his chest because of excitement this time.

 

That had been the first kiss he gave, so he considered to be his first kiss period. He realized it was wrong since he remembered a tongue needed to be in the other man’s mouth – he also remembered being told that the other person involved in the kiss was supposed to reciprocate – but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to try that with James at this point in time.

 

He did shiver with pleasure when he felt soft lips on the back of his neck, James burrowing himself under the blankets with him, his warm breath caressing his ear. “Good night, Quentin. I’ll be here in the morning, don’t worry.”

 

Morning came and Quentin did indeed wake up with James still next to him, gently playing with his hair while staring at the television. They didn’t talk about the botched up kiss or anything of what happened in the previous night, but James was a lot more touchy-feely with Quentin, always checking to see if the other was okay with that. That was when he decided to switch the gifts from a way to show his gratitude to ones that were meant to court him – and just the thought of that got his heart to beat fast and his breathing to become troublesome.

 

“Quentin? Quentin, are you alright?” Boothroyd asked worriedly, placing the back of his hand against his forehead to check and see if he had a fever.

 

“I’m sorry, yes I am perfectly fine. I simply got lost in my thoughts for a moment.” He allowed the old man to fret around him for a few more minutes, accepting the thermometer that was shoved in his mouth by an equally worried R. “I’m really fine, I promise. I simply did not sleep that well last night and nothing more.”

 

It was strange that a branch which had been presented to him as a sort of a combination between an armoury and a smithy had so many medical devices, but he suspected his love of that place above others in the building had something to do with it and that made him feel both special and bad at the same time.

 

After Boothroyd calmed down and Quentin was convinced that it was a rare, easy day for the man, they both started to work on the special cufflinks and watch for James. It took them a long time, the agent even calling him to check and see if he was okay, Quentin stuttering through a lie about being re-educated about how to properly use the laptop and the internet – really, his lie had been so bad that he suspected James was also up to something on his end for accepting it so easily.

 

He did ask to talk with Boothroyd though and Quentin almost glued himself to the older man’s ear, trying to hear James’ part of the conversation. “Seven you say?” The old man asked, moving so suddenly that Quentin almost fell flat on his face. “I am terribly sorry, but I think you should make it eight. That is, unless you want to come back again within the week with the laptop and ask me to somehow find a way to delete porn from the internet? That’s what I thought. I’ll drive him there myself, don’t worry.”

 

The major avoided giving Quentin straight answers, constantly distracting him by asking him if he had made sure the new additions to the watch were okay or if the transmitters in the cufflinks truly weren’t affected by the shock application they also added.

 

Twenty minutes to eight, Quentin found himself being more or less shoved in the major’s car, Eve catching them just in time to give him a black velvet box with a discreet red bow on it for him to put his gifts in.

 

“Don’t worry, he’ll like them,” the major assured him after dropping him off in front of a restaurant, dusting his dark blue cardigan and arranging his hair. The man was looking at him fondly and it reminded him of the way his second sister-in-law’s father looked at her when he gave her away at the altar. “I’ll have someone drop by your apartment with the laptop tomorrow morning,” the man said right before he slowly drove away, ignoring the honking and the cussing that came from the cars behind him.

 

Quentin took a deep breath before entering the restaurant, feeling even more nervous when he saw just how intimate it was. His heart started beating faster when he thought about the previous night and he hoped that, perhaps, the man had the exact same idea as he did and they could begin having a relationship that was more than friendship.

 

But then his eyes landed on James and his heart got crushed when he noticed the blonde woman he was kissing. They had never talked about James' personal life and Quentin never saw any pictures of the woman or a wedding band on his finger. Yet, the more he thought about it, he realized that his status as a spy prevented him from having such personal things on display just in case someone decided to use his family against him.

 

From what he could see, the woman was gorgeous, the type that could easily have any king kneeling in front of her and offering everything they owned from peasants to their crown jewels. It was actually the only type of woman Quentin could envision James being married with. James had probably invited him there to present his present him to his breathtakingly wife – who was probably in the same field as him, which explained why Quentin couldn’t see a ring on her finger – and he had come with foolish dreams and hopes.

 

There was no place for him in the apartment, even if he slept on a sofa or if James put a bed in the other room. What if that room had been designed for a baby and he’d just forced the man to make it into his laboratory when M designated the agent to be his guard?

 

Someone rested a hand on his back, quickly pulling away when he flinched as if he had been burned. "I am terribly sorry for scaring you sir," a waiter said, clearing his throat and looking him up and down, analysing what he was wearing. "Is everything in order? Are you in the right place?"

 

No, everything was horrible and he was in the wrong timeline. “I’m fine, sorry. I was invited here by Mister Bond, however...” He glanced back at the table, biting his lip as he saw the James touching his lips while looking at the woman. “Do you mind if you deliver a message alongside this box to the gentleman in question?” He pulled a twenty pound note and shoved it in the man’s pocket before getting an answer, a pen and paper instantly appearing in front of him.

 

He wrote a quick thank you for everything the man had done for him, lying to him that he missed his brothers and family too much to be able to stay in this era any longer. He also assured him that his gratitude would go beyond a simple watch and a pair of cufflinks and that he would do everything in his power to repay him even more via ensuring that his ancestors received even more titles and land, addressing it to Lord Bond.

 

“There is nothing dangerous in here, see?” he ripped the little bow and shoved it in his satchel before opening the box and showing its contents. “So please wait for me to go and then give it to him, okay?” He thanked the man and left the restaurant, disappointed that when he had looked back one last time, James had disappeared from the table.

 

He wasn’t alone for too long, one of the cars that James had told him was there to protect him pulling alongside, a man dressed in a suit asking him if there was anything he could help him with and where had the man tasked with keeping him safe had gone.

 

Frowning, Quentin glanced back at the restaurant, the man’s hand on his arm keeping him from his wishful thinking. “I decided that it would be for the best if I spend some time apart from James so it would be easier when I return home.”

 

The man gave him a short nod and was instantly on the phone with someone, whispering while his companion stepped out of the car to hold the door open from the young man, accidentally hitting his satchel pretty hard with it.

 

“I am terribly sorry, my lord,” the man said, bowing. “I am sure everything that I have damaged will be replaced if you so wish.” And even as he said that, he grabbed the satchel and dug around it, pulling out the phone whose screen had been cracked and shoved it in his jacket.

 

Quentin tried to get a word in, but he was already being pushed in the back seat, the first man turning to flash him a smile that made him feel slightly uneasy. “Don’t worry about anything, Lord Quentin. Your relative is more than happy to offer you the use of his humble house and money until the preparations to send you back are done.”

 

There was an obvious sense of forebode as the door closed after hi with a loud bang, but at the same time he felt as if this was the path he was supposed to go on. He didn’t look back as he car drove away, missing the distraught James that ran up and down the sidewalk with the woman right on his heels, shouting his name.

 

***

 

“I’m Harvey Wellington Livingstone the Third and let me tell you that it is an honour to finally make your acquaintance.”

 

Quentin graced the man with the smile he usually reserved for all the people he was forced to socialize with by his parents, nodding his head. “It brings great joy to know that my family name lived on for so long and that it appears to still be quite influential within the noble houses of today.”

 

His descendant was very unsettling, the old man reminding him of his oldest brother with his smile that was always a tad too kind to be true and muddy brown eyes that always looked like they were up to no good. The two even shared the habit of tugging on their ear when they didn’t agree with something, but were unable to openly express it – which was strange since he had read something which claimed that traits like that couldn’t be transmitted via genetic make-up.

 

But of his distrust of the man didn’t just stem from the fact that he reminded him of his brother. He also relied on his gut instinct that told him something was off as well as taking note of the way everyone tiptoed around him and whispered when he was near, some looking at him with pity.

 

In all honestly, his suspicious started to take shape right from the first night he spent in the manor. It happened that he couldn’t find a comfortable positing in which he could sleep in the enormous bed, tossing and turning for about an hour before he gave up.

 

He knew it was because he was missing James and the fact that he felt lonely. He thought that talking with his family would help relax him enough to fall into a light snooze, but he became even more agitated the moment he stepped out of the cold room and found himself surrounded by five people who all watched him with unease, hovering around him as if they didn’t know if they should attack him or ask if there was anything they could do for him.

 

He tried to convince himself that he was over thinking things and that a nice, warm cup of tea and a documentary alongside someone would make him feel better. Only, he never really finished his tea or his suggestion, eyelids becoming heavy after his second sip. He woke up feeling more tired than rested in the big bed and the doctor that was called on his behalf said he might have caught a cold.

 

“I can only imagine in what horrible conditions the MI6 dog kept you in, Great-uncle.” The man had skipped over quite a few ‘greats’ in that title, but Quentin realized how annoying and time consuming it would be to add them every time he talked with him.

 

“They weren't horrible at all. I quite enjoyed living in that apartment, its size allowing for a cosy and warm atmosphere to instantly be formed. I mean you no offense when I say that I quite preferred James' home.” Quentin smiled, closing his eyes and before he knew it, he was fast asleep.

 

The third time that happened, he had decided to stop drinking anything that wasn’t in a bottled water, even turning into a bit of a tyrant and tossing the glasses he was presented with at the walls, stomping his feet and pretending to be insulted – and by the time they gave in, Harvey’s ears were close to bleeding from how hard they had been tugged on. He still felt sleepy most of the time and suspected that there was also something in the food, but he needed to eat.

 

He was also bothered by the people who were constantly walking around the huge manor with him, one of them even insisting at one point to go to the bathroom with him. “Do you think me so dumb that I cannot comprehend indoor plumbing?”

 

The man growled, flexing his hands. “Boss just wants to be sure that nothing bad happens to you. He just figures you might slip and hit your head against the tub or the toilet bowl.”

 

“Well, I can assure you I will have words with him after this. But you’ll still wait for me outside this door, understood?” It looked like he was about to get slapped, but the mountain of a man took a few deep breaths and nodded.

 

Harvey apologized in the fakest manner possible and agreed to let him have his privacy at least when it came to the bathroom but refused to allow him to walk around alone. “You might get lost or we might get attacked. I’m not saying that we’re being targeted by anyone right now, but I simply wish to have everything covered just in case,” he added quickly, pouring Quentin a cup of tea which the young man didn’t really touch.

 

He decided to play with the men, constantly giving them the slip and hiding from them. He might as well have a bit of fun with his unofficial status of captive. He did notice that his relative constantly changed his guard, undoubtedly annoyed that they couldn’t keep an eye on him and that pleased him.

 

Another odd and alarming thing was that his phone actually wasn’t his. It certainly looked the same, had the same scratches and the exact contacts and pictures as the one he was originally given by James, but it didn’t recognize the secret code R had put in for him to guard his most beloved pictures and video files.

 

James – or anyone else, for that matter –weren’t answering his calls or texting back and the stain on his family name dared to claim that no one cared about him anymore. “That horrid woman was only using you to control our family funds, you know. And now that her most loyal dog lost you, she has no interest in talking to you.” He was missing the forked tongue at this point.

 

That was when Quentin started to pay more attention to the whispers he heard, lingering in the doorways and repeating the bits of information he had gathered in his mind until he fell asleep. He eventually stole a notebook in which he started to write everything down, hiding it behind the wardrobe.

 

At first, things didn’t make too much sense and Quentin was tempted to think that he was just paranoid of the people who were simply trying to take care of him, coming off as awkward and suspicious because they simply lacked the connection he had with the MI6 agents. He was seriously thinking about apologizing to his relative and everyone he had suspected when he just so happened to pass by the old man’s office exactly when he was having a shouting match with someone over the phone.

 

“If you would have told me what the bloody duke was up to, I wouldn’t be forced to play house right now! Look, I don’t care! I don’t care who kills that annoying woman, but I’ll get to put a bullet between that those annoyingly innocent green eyes of his.”

 

Quentin heard some footsteps approaching and quickly left the area, not wanting to be caught and kept under sedation until the day they managed to fix the bloody machine. He continued to act as if he didn’t know anything, but from that moment, Quentin started to think of a way to contact MI6 and let them know what was happening.

 

The phone was out of the question because the Q branch workers didn’t get around to showing him how something like that could be hacked, so he needed a laptop. That part was the easiest from his plan, since no one thought he had wised up to what they were plotting and still gave him pretty much anything he asked for.

 

Not that his snake of a relative was happy to hear his request. “It will take a while since I want you to have the best, but you will have it. We will do everything to make your temporary stay with us pleasant.” The smile he flashed made Quentin feel nauseous.

 

There was no surprise when Quentin saw that his internet access was restricted, all the sites he went on being clear clones of the original ones – and he remembered Alec explaining that the Chinese government did something similar to control its population and keep them away from thoughts of revolting.

 

It took him two weeks to find a way around the laptop’s security walls and he was quite proud of himself for doing that even though it would have taken a Q Branch minion less than two hours to do it and unlock every possible site. He only managed to gain access to real video sites, a video chat site to be more exact since he wanted to be sure Lady M would really get his message and to do that he thought about asking that James for help.

 

The man was surprised to see Quentin on his screen, pulling a jacket on himself. “Oh, I never thought I’d ever see you again, love. Let me apologize for the last time, your boyfriend explained that you came from a very sheltered—“

 

“Apology accepted, but we don’t have time for this,” Quentin whispered, glancing at his bedroom door, afraid that someone would walk in. “I want you to do something for me and I promise that I as well as my friends will pay you handsomely.” He started to recite the card number and CVV which he had learned by heart upon James' insistence in case they ever got separated somewhere.

 

"Wait, you don't have-- Mister Dench, I can't--" the man was trying to interrupt, realizing how it was to talk in vain. He started to worry when he saw tears in Quentin's eyes, finally managing to stop him from talking. "Do you want me to call the cops? You don’t have to bribe me if you need help. I will, however, start recording just to be sure that it isn't a prank."

 

Quentin shook his head. "No, the police wouldn’t be able to do anything." He glanced at the door when he heard footsteps getting closer to his room, realizing that he had to hurry. "Go to the MI6 building and tell them Quentin says M is in danger. I know it sounds crazy, but I promise you that nothing bad will happen!" He slammed the laptop shut before he could hear the answer, burrowing under the covers, pretending to be fast asleep when the guard opened the door to check in on him.

 

He thought he had been careful, but clearly it hadn’t because his internet access was completely cut off the following day. Someone did claim that there had been an accident down the roar and whatnot, but Quentin clearly saw some of the men using it on their phones. Of course he didn’t say anything, hoping to hold out until – and if – back up arrived.

 

The food he was served on the same day had a strangely sweet taste to it, not completely unpleasant, but it did feel as if it didn’t belong in what he had been served. He realized that he felt the taste of a drug only when he became extremely tired and almost collapsed on the ground, the men throwing his arms over their shoulders and dragging him back to his room.

 

Sadly, it became clear that help wasn’t coming after two days and honestly, Quentin didn't know he thought the man would do what he was told. He basically just shoved a lot of money in a stranger's hands and asked him to go to a government building and say something that might be considered a threat more than a warning. Well, he wasn't just going to take it sleeping that was for sure.

 

His plan was extremely simple: not eat all day, knock out the person who always checked in on him after ten, steal his phone, call his James while making his escape and explain everything. Okay so maybe it just sounded easy and he realized that he had little to no chance of actually walking all the way back to London since it had been a three hour drive from there to the manor. In reality, there was a bigger chance of him getting killed even before he got out of the manor, but at least that was long enough for him to explain everything that was happening to the agent and save someone.

 

But he didn't care. Everyone had been so wonderful with him, especially James - his darling James, as he had taken to calling him in his mind - so the least he could do for the man was save the woman he considered being his mother from death.

 

The first part worked without a problem. No one really bothered to check if he actually ate what was given to him, so he just stuffed the food in the toilet tank and pretended to be asleep for the whole day. Knocking someone out however was much harder. He was still drowsy because of whatever they had put in his food and weak because he hadn’t eaten anything that day, so it took a couple of swings with the laptop before the deed was done.

 

He took his phone, tied the man up with the sheets and with great effort, he managed to roll him under the bed. A wave of dizziness washed over him and he leaned against the door, taking a deep breath and telling himself that he had to go on. He was close; he couldn’t give up just yet.

 

By some miracle, he managed to get out of the large mansion without being seen and after making sure that the yard was clear, he made a run for one of the grotesque topiaries that his descendent seemed to be obsessed with, hiding between two of them.

 

But that was where his luck ended, because the man wasn't picking up and he was redirected to the voice mail. Maybe the man had been right about that one thing and everyone was really avoiding his calls. "James, I'm sorry..." He couldn't really help the chocked sob that left him, but he tried to control himself. "M is in danger. I think Harvey was working with the duke—"

 

Someone slapped the phone from his ear, stomping it a couple of times before trying to grab him. Quentin dodged the large hand and managed to run a few meters before the world spun out of focus and he lost his balance, falling on the ground. He was pulled up by the hair and Quentin closed his eyes when he saw the man getting ready to punch him, but the pain never came.

 

There was a little popping sound and the man’s hold on him suddenly went slack and he started to fall to the ground. Quentin tried to regain his balance and not fall on top of the man, but failed miserably. At least he was going to land on something soft, he though just as two arms shot out from in front of him and grabbed him, pushing him against a firm chest he knew too well.

 

“You’re safe, my brave lord Quentin. I'm here and I’ll make them pay for everything, I promise,” James was whispering in his ear between wet and sloppy kisses.

 

Quentin wrapped his arms around James, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from his heart. He wanted to get lost in the man’s smell which made him feel safe and the warmth he had greatly missed. “He was working with the duke! I heard so many things!" He stepped back and started to pat down his chest, searching for the notebook. "Oh, it's still behind the wardrobe."

 

“Quentin, love, look at me.” He gently cupped his chin and turned his head to look at him, rubbing his chapped lips with his thumb as he looked at him with fondness. “It's okay, we know everything. I would have come sooner, but I was on a mission and M wanted to wait until the machine was fixed. Everyone who saw the video of you decided otherwise and pulled me out." He rubbed his cheek against Quentin's, kissing the corner of his lips. "What did I do wrong? Why did you leave me?"

 

Quentin went completely red in the face, his happiness at being in James' arms again being replaced with sadness when he remembered how heated the kiss between him and the woman looked. "I am sorry for taking off like that. If only I wouldn’t have let my mind be ruled but what I felt and I would have stayed to be properly introduce to your wife--"

 

"Wife? What wife?" James interrupted him, frowning. "Natalya is not my wife.” He looked disgusted for a moment, shaking his head. “I now know the reason why she did what she did, but in all honesty, I thought she was trying to kill me with a poisons kiss. I was stuffing myself with all sorts of antidotes when the waiter brought me your gifts." He brushed his lips against Quentin's, allowing a moment for the young man to decide if he was okay with this or not before pulling him into an actual kiss.

 

And the kiss was out of this world as far as Quentin was concerned, a strange jolt of pleasant electricity traveling down to his stomach, making him instantly close his eyes and feel as if he had just entered heaven. He pushed himself closer to James to deepen the kiss, their bodies flush against each other, moaning in James mouth which did not help the agent with the problem that was steadily getting bigger in his lower region.

 

He wanted more, so much more and without realizing it, he started to claw at James' shirt, the man chuckling lightly as he broke the kiss and grabbed Quentin's hands. "Believe me when I say that I wish we had time to do this now. We’ll continue this when I have you in the safety of my—our home?” James said as he started to pull the young man after him, smiling when he saw him shyly nod, face getting beet red.

 

Quentin thought he saw something shining a bit to their right and he acted on instinct, tackling James to the ground just in time to save him from a bullet. The agent pulled himself up and tried to get Quentin to move behind him, but he refused to do so, acting as a shield for him knowing fully well that he was still needed and the shooter would not dare kill him just yet.

 

“You two are making me sick,” Harvey spoke up at the same time as powerful reflectors were shined on James and Quentin. "You consider yourself a very smart man, right Quentin? So that means you must know how this works: you get here and I do not kill your annoying boyfriend in the slowest way possible."

 

Before Quentin could say anything James pushed him to the ground and covered him as best he could while the people who were working for Harvey all fell down, blood coming from their foreheads. The man tried to shoot the agent, but the gun was shot from his hands, another bullet getting lodged in his shoulder.

 

"Ah, ups. Sorry about that; I seem to have an itchy finger." Alec said, walking up to the fallen man, resting his foot right over the gunshot. "James, one is supposed to apply pressure on the wound to stop it, right? James?"

 

Alec turned around with a bit of fear in his heart that he might find his friend also shot. He ended up rolling his eyes when he saw him hugging Quentin so tight that he was probably having trouble breathing, the younger man - was it really okay for him to think of him like that? He was at least a few hundred years older than any of them, no matter how young he looked - violently shivering, trying to keep himself from crying.

 

Harvey tried to wiggle out from under Alec, but the agent simply applied more pressure, smiling fondly. "Look at that. That womanizer actually found someone he cares about. Who would have thought?" He kneeled with his foot on Harvey's chest while the Mi6 medical team pretended they didn't see anything or heard the man's pleas. "You have no idea how lucky you are that I'm not alone with you right now, scum."

 

***

 

A thing that surprised many was that the MI13 ‘sightseer’ couldn’t sense anything wrong with the flow of time if Quentin stayed in the present. The strange man explained that it meant that Quentin was either supposed to come to the future or something happens further down that determines him to go back at the exact moment he disappeared and act like nothing happened, keeping a secret every new thing he learned.

 

The latter possibility did not please James at all. Of course he knew he could always screw up, but he’d like to believe that he wouldn’t and that he also wouldn’t upset the young man so much that he’d go to a place where he couldn’t follow on his knees, pleading for another chance – because it was Quentin and for him, James could see himself grovelling faster than breaking his heart.

 

Thankfully MI5 proved those fears to be unfounded not even a day later. They had dug so deeply in the Livingston family archives that they actually managed to find documents from when the young man came that simply said he suddenly disappeared one night and that his parents both presumed that he had run away to escape from his impending marriage to the youngest girl from the Bond family.

 

James was very surprised when he heard that and he turned to look at his lover with a curious expression which Quentin accidentally read it as an affronted one. "She was smart and beautiful," he started to explain, taking a step back and holding his hands in front of him in a defensive manner. "But she was in love with someone else who actually deserved her a lot more than me since he loved her back and--"

 

"I am happy that we aren’t related, honestly. And don’t think I’d be glad to share you with anyone, even if they were my ancestor." He bumped their foreheads together, glaring at M for a moment before starting to point towards the door with his head rather insistently.

 

But M just stared at him coldly, managing to somehow narrow his eyes even more without fully closing them. "What is it, 007? Did you hit you head when Quentin threw himself to shield you from the shooter you were trained to spot from at least 3 kilometres away, but didn't because you were too busy turning into a bloody Shakespeare-wannabe instead of running away and ensuring the safety of the man that you were tasked with protecting which all happened after disobeying direct orders to NOT act on your own?"

 

James smirked, unable to keep his mouth shut despite Quentin shyly tugging on his shirt. "In all honesty, I wasn't acting on my own. Even the medical team came with me. It is safe to say that at that point, you were the one acting on your own." He brushed his lips against Quentin when he thought he was going to apologize to M, causing him to freeze for a moment.

 

M slowly shook her head, seriously thinking about getting an IV bag and filling it with whiskey. "Quentin, I promise that if you ever regret you decision to stay with this bloody idiot, I will do everything in my power to get you back home. Even if the whole universe or whatever collapses in on itself."

 

Quentin right hand instantly shot up and fisted itself in James' shirt, the agent moving closer to him and looking at the woman with a smug expression on his face. "I do not think that will ever happen Lady M. James is very special to me, even if he is rude, crass and lacks the proper etiquette when it comes to dealing with ladies of certain ages.”

 

M's eye twitched – which was something that not even the agent managed to make her do – and James instantly started to laugh, ruffling a confused Quentin's hair. "You're already ruining a well-mannered young man, Bond. Congratulations."

 

With that out of the way, things returned to normal – or as normal as things could be when it came to a double oh agent and his time traveling lover. Their routine included long make out sessions, although it never went beyond that, Quentin still freezing up the moment their pants disappeared and he felt how excited both he and James were to be that close to one another.

 

He apologized every time, but James assured him that there was no need for that. He explained that he was happy with how close they were and he had no problem waiting until Quentin was ready since, after all, he wanted him to shiver in pleasure under him, not because of a panic attack – and if a cold shower couldn’t fix the problem, than a quick wank was perfect.

 

Quentin appeared to understand, chewing on his thumb before nodding, promising that he wasn’t going to force himself to do anything. Of course, as soon as James was out of hearing rage, he instantly googled what ‘wanking’ meant and it was pretty nice to finally know what touching one’s self was called.

 

Actually, just thinking of James touching himself made it hard for him not to do that and five minutes later he was taking an ice cold shower while his lover was asking if he was okay through the locked door.

 

Thing was, he was never really given a proper sexual education even when it came to women and he was too ashamed to ask anyone he knew for help at this point. His father had wanted to take him to a brothel when he had turned 14, but Quentin ran like the devil himself was on his tail when the woman started to undo his pants, explaining what she was about to do in the most exhausted voice he had ever heard. He did that again when his brothers tried to do the same locking himself in his laboratory and refusing to open the door for anyone but the servant he liked and his mother.

 

He knew that something was supposed to go somewhere when a man and a woman laid together, but he also knew that mean completely lacked that part so he was curious was to where that something was supposed to go. And when he found the answer, he was extremely shocked, almost screaming, but managed to stop himself thanks to James who was talking to him from the other room, asking him where he wanted to eat.

 

"Anywhere is fine, really," he answered hurriedly, slamming the laptop shut as soon as the man entered the room. That simply had to hurt! There was no way it couldn't hurt, especially taking into consideration how well-endowed James was.

 

"Quentin? Love, are you okay? You've been spacing out a lot these past few days. Do you have a fever?" James asked, his lips against the young man's forehead, eyeing the laptop.

 

He smiled and grabbed James' hand, pulling him towards the door. "Yes, I am fine, do not worry. Just a tad hungry. Let's go eat already, yes?"

 

James was very suspicious, but didn't act on it, thinking that he was paranoid due to his life as a double oh. But it didn't help when, at around three in the morning, he awoke to his young lover scrolling through his phone, chewing his lips to the point of almost making them bleed and looking extremely worried and terrified.

 

He moved closer to him, thinking of wrapping his arms around him before asking him what was wrong, the words dying on his tongue when Quentin instantly closed the phone and shoved it under his pillow, burrowing his head in his chest, pretending to be asleep. Okay, so something was definitely wrong and Quentin clearly did not want to talk about whatever bothered him with James. Maybe he'd be a bit more open with a woman who treated him as if she was his older sister or with a man he considered to be his adoptive father.

 

He could try to use some of his techniques on Quentin to get him to talk, but that would be completely wrong. That would be like turning him into nothing more than one of his usual targets. No, he would ask Eve and Boothroyd for help as soon as the sun rose and try to understand why his young lover didn't trust him to ask for his help.

 

Morning came and when James rolled over for the usual good morning kiss, he was shocked to find the bed empty. Not only that, but Quentin's side was also cold and he could hear the younger man whispering from the living room. He instantly went into agent mode, sneaking out of the room without making as much as a single sound, crouching by the door and straining his hearing.

 

"...sheltered were you anyway? I thought everybody your age knew how that worked. Still, why not talk with your lover about it directly?" A voice that sounded like it belonged to the man who had given them the message from Quentin came from the laptop, causing the younger man to groan and hide his face in his knees.

 

"I think it would be quite stressful for him if he had to walk me through this as well." James heard Quentin sigh as he moved on the sofa and he stood as still as possible, checking to see just how his shadow was falling on the ground in case it was going to give his position away. "I wanted to learn on my own, but the things I read made it sound extremely painful. I mean, he's quite big and I'm not sure it's going to, you know... Fit."

 

He heard a snort coming from the laptop and when he peeked in the room, he saw Quentin hiding his face in his knees, tips if his ears red. "That might actually be a fun thing to teach, for both of you, I mean. And he'll stretch you, don't worry. Well, he better, anyway. If he doesn't and it hurts you, tell him. Wait, let me show you how that works, actually."

 

Okay, it was now beyond clear what they were talking about and James had enough. "Thank you very much for having this conversation with my lover, but I will take it from here if you don't terribly mind," he spoke up as he walked in the room, making Quentin yelp and jump up on the sofa, looking extremely guilty. "Love, I can let him continue his explanation without turning it into a visual one, if it is easier for you. But I'd rather you come to me for things like this.” He wrapped his arms around him and started kissing his neck.

 

"Of course I want you to do this, but won't it be tedious for you? I mean, I remember how tired the woman father brought me when I was young sounded extremely bored when she realized I had no idea what was going on," his eyes fluttered closed when James daft fingers slipped under his shirt and found his nipples, moaning when he pinched them and by some miracle, he managed to close the laptop with his foot.

 

James chuckled against Quentin's neck, pushing him down on the sofa. "That may have been the case for her, but I love you so this will be an honour for me. And I also don’t think I have ever done something with you or for you that I found tedious."

 

Quentin suddenly pushed James back a bit, looking at him with the sort of amazement that was usually reserved for a gadget that he'd taken apart, saw how it worked and made it even better after putting it back together. "You love me?"

 

"I'm the type to show it more than say it, but yes. I," he gave him a big, sloppy kiss on his eye, "love," and another one on his nose, "you." The last one was a full kiss on the mouth, James shivering when his mouth was filled with Quentin's pleasant taste that seemed to change every time.

           

Most of the people he kissed tasted like bitterness, alcohol and cigarettes. But Quentin always tasted like a sweet fruit and joy and his lips were so soft that James quickly found himself addicted to them. He’d have kissed him until time itself ended, but their need for air always ruined that plan.

 

He leaned back and looked down at Quentin, his half lidded eyes fully filed with lust, no trace of that sliver of fear he’d found in the past. “The only face that could top the one you’re making right now, love, would be the one filled with pure pleasure.”

 

Quentin growled and pulled James back over him. “Then help me show it to you already.” He wrapped his legs around him and closed his eyes, smiling a bit as they both moved in for another kiss.

 

James regretted giving Eve keys to his apartment, he really did. “Hey, Bond, do you think Quentin would mind if I borrow him for--- Whoa, okay horrible timing, sorry!” The woman instantly turned around, covering her eyes. “Should I come back in a few hours? Days?”

 

“Never would be too soon, Miss Moneypenny,” James grumbled, sitting up while Quentin arranged himself in a position he considered to be decent, head lowered and face covered by his hair. “I have a phone, use it. If I’m not picking up, it is because I have a good reason. Yes, I do think Quentin would mind if you ‘borrowed’ him for anything today,” he glanced at the man, seeing him give a sharp nod in agreement. “It wasn’t nice seeing you so give me the keys and get the hell out.”

 

She didn’t manage to get a single word as she was pushed out of the apartment, James slamming the door shut behind her, locking it and booting the security protocol that Boothroyd had recently installed. He rested his forehead against the door for a moment, sighing.

 

“Would this be a case of cockblocking? And, are we suffering from something called ‘blue balls’ right now?” Quentin asked after James had sat down next to him, eyes narrowed as he double-checked the terms on the phone. “I don’t understand; do they actually turn blue?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Cleisthenes - referred by historians as "the father of Athenian democracy"
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> Kudos and comments are pure love.


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